


Valentine's Day

by ineswrites



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Confession, M/M, Minor Character Death, Valentine's Day, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9714893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineswrites/pseuds/ineswrites
Summary: “That would be a good screenplay,” Wade continued running his mouth, his eyes scanning the walls frantically. He could hear wind blowing outside. If he shut up and listened in, he’d hear footsteps and groans. “Two lovers and their friend Steve on a romantic date in the middle of nowhere, with zombies roaming around them. Coming this Valentine’s Day in theaters near you.”“Sounds more like a D-list horror movie.”“Hey, remember when this was our life? When we sat in complete darkness, trapped in a room in one of my wooden, ruined safehouses? Those were good times.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little something I wrote on Valentine's Day last year. I was in the mood.  
> In the... very odd mood.

 

Wade barricaded the door and sat on the dusty, wooden floor of his safehouse, clenching Oates nervously. Clint, who sat opposite, was playing with his lighter, a tiny flame appearing, bathing his face in an orange glow, and disappearing with a click.

“Such Valentine’s Day,” Wade commented. “So romantic.”

“Wow,” Clint agreed. He’d be amused if not for the circumstances.

“That’s better than staying in, watching a romcom with Ryan Reynolds. What does he know about being romantic? Hah!”

Clint hummed in agreement.

“Just look at us, baby: candles, dinner.” Wade gestured towards an empty wrapper after a granola bar. “Music. _I could've wish a thousand wishes for this night, I can't believe,”_ he sang, “ _That it's finally me and you and you and me, just us and your friend Steve._ ”

They looked at Steve Rogers, asleep against a wall. A worried look crossed Clint’s face before his lighter clicked and he was swallowed by darkness again. Wade heard him finally put it on the floor beside him.

“That would be a good screenplay,” Wade continued running his mouth, his eyes scanning the walls frantically. He could hear wind blowing outside. If he shut up and listened in, he’d hear footsteps and groans. “Two lovers and their friend Steve on a romantic date in the middle of nowhere, with zombies roaming around them. Coming this Valentine’s Day in theaters near you.”

“Sounds more like a D-list horror movie.”

“Hey, remember when this was our _life_? When we sat in complete darkness, trapped in a room in one of my wooden, ruined safehouses? Those were good times.”

“Those are no zombies.” Wade heard a movement and he imagined Clint point at one of the walls.

“Yeah, well, we don’t know what they are. They’re eating people. May as well be zombies.”

“More like cannibals.”

“Zombie cannibals.”

Another movement. Maybe Clint shrugged.

“I feel like James fucking Sunderland. Yeah, I know those weren’t zombies. Doesn’t change the fact I feel like an idiot trapped in a cursed town. Can I call you Maria?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you’re more of an Eddie.”

“ _I don’t know what it means and I don’t wanna._ ”

Wade shrugged. His thoughts went to the group of heroes they were separated from. Weasel was with them… They were probably trying to find them. “We have Captain fucking America with us, of course they do…” he muttered.

“They might think we’re dead,” Clint said, correctly guessing what Wade was thinking about.

“They know I can’t be. But I don’t count…”

“You do count. To several people, at least.”

Wade shrugged again. “Yeah, Weasel, maybe… He doesn’t count either. Doesn’t matter… As long as there’s a chance their golden boy’s alive, they wouldn’t risk leaving him behind…” He glanced where he knew Steve lay. “And Kate will insist on searching for you, too…”

“But the only person that they can track is you.”

Wade sighed, touching his teleporter. It was borked, again. “A little light?”

The lighter clicked. Wade sat closer to Clint so he could see better. He took his belt off and studied the teleporter in a shaky, weak light. “Yeah, they can’t. The tracker is broken.”

Clint cursed under his breath. Suddenly they heard wood breaking. Their heads snapped that way. They heard slow footsteps. It seemed that the zombie cannibal whatevers broke in. Wade clenched Oates tighter.

“I’m not gonna lie, sweet lips… We might die. Well, I’ll come back… But you won’t.”

“Yeah, well… It’s a good day to die,” Clint said, hiding the lighter in his pocket and picking up his bow. They stood up slowly, staring into the darkness, listening to the noises inside the house.

“It is?” Wade asked.

“I’m with you.”

“That sounded pretentiously romantic.”

“Maybe. But it’s true. I died before. You weren’t there. It sucked.”

“I have a feeling it’s gonna suck today, too.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Wade walked up to Steve Rogers, grabbed him and shook lightly. He wasn’t sure what he was holding, but hoped it was his shoulder. “Steve. Hey. Captain. Wakey, wakey.”

But Captain didn’t move nor make any sound. Wade frowned and bowed down over him. He didn’t hear breathing. He looked for his neck with his hands, and when he found it, he searched for his pulse. “Cap?”

“What’s up?” Clint asked, concerned.

Wade stood up and backed away, holding his free hand out.

“He’s dead. Probably turning. Where are you?”

“On your left.”

A warm hand grabbed his. He squeezed it slightly. A wet gasp escaped Clint’s lips.

“What do we do now?”

“Look for an exit.”

They didn’t have to; something banged at the door, making them both jump. Clint gasped again. Wade clenched both his hand and the handle of his katana.

“Okay, baby, this is it… We’re not gonna make it, probably. I know a hopeless situation when I see one.”

“You’re a great motivational speaker.”

“Word.”

Another loud bang had them back away until they bumped into a wall.

“How about: smash them, eat them?”

“Who are you trying to motivate, us or them?”

“Us.”

“Then it’s not great either.”

A fist punched through the door and it creaked open, letting in the moonlight. A crooked figure walked in, its skin black, covered in moving maggots.

“Gross. And coming from me, it’s saying a lot.” Wade let go of Clint’s hand and reached for a knife strapped to his thigh. He threw it, hitting the creature in its eye. It fell to the floor.

“Maybe it was just this one?” Clint asked hopefully. But no; the door creaked and they watched it slowly open until it revealed three other creatures. They exchanged glances and attacked. Heads were rolling, but creatures kept coming. Wade lost Oates at one point. One of the creatures grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him close, opening its jaws wide. He punched it in.

“Be careful!” he shouted, watching the spandex covering his wrist dissolve. “They ooze some sort of acid, it burns through my suit and skin!” He flinched but couldn’t wipe the acid away without further hurting himself. His healing factor would take care of it soon enough.

“You think?” Clint asked sarcastically. Must have already found out on his own.

They thought their way to the kitchen and Wade shut the door behind them, leaning against it. It wasn’t going to stop the creatures for long, but at least they had a short moment to regroup. Clint leaned against the wall, wincing. Wade saw the burns blemishing his arms. One of his shoes was missing a sole. Several tiny maggots were writhing on the other one.

“Stark’s running late,” Wade complained. “Or Kate. Whichever’s looking for us.”

The creatures were already banging at the door.

“I love you.”

Wade blinked. “Ex-squeeze me?”

Clint shrugged. “May as well say it now.”

“Heh.” Wade couldn’t suppress a smug smile. “You know, you’re not a great motivational speaker either.”

“If that doesn’t motivate you, then I don’t know what will.”

“It’s a confession on a deathbed. I don’t know what could be less motivational.” Wade felt the wood beneath his back break and he jumped away, holding Hall up. “Ready?”

“To die, fighting by your side? Always.” Clint readied his bow.

“You are. Terribly. Romantic. At the worst times.” The door broke into pieces and a bunch of zombie cannibal creatures walked into the tiny kitchen.

“So? No one can hear me.”

“I can hear you.”

“You don’t count.”

“I count to several people.”

They grinned at each other and attacked.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> According to Deadpool & Cable: Split Second, Hall and Oates are the names of Deadpool's katana.


End file.
